


comforting company

by maureenbrown



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Bubbline, Character Turned Into a Ghost, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Ghosts, Holding Hands, Pre-Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7312420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maureenbrown/pseuds/maureenbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death was not at all like Marceline expected it would be. She knew she wasn’t getting into heaven, that’s for sure, but she didn’t necessarily believe in any of that sort of stuff either. </p><p>She was stuck in a limbo she soon discovered, one where nobody could see or hear her, though there were perks. Instead of moping like any other ghost would (not that she’d seen any yet), she decided to give ordinary people hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	comforting company

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @crankwinston

Death was not at all like Marceline expected it would be. She knew she wasn’t getting into heaven, that’s for sure, but she didn’t necessarily believe in any of that sort of stuff either. 

She was stuck in a limbo she soon discovered, one where nobody could see or hear her, though there were perks. Instead of moping like any other ghost would (not that she’d seen any yet), she decided to give ordinary people hell.

Marceline visited the house of a couple of her enemies when she was one of the living, never pulling a prank to extravagant or harming. She didn’t want them to join her in death, after all. She would draw dicks on people’s faces while they were sleeping, or sometimes replace Oreo cream with toothpaste (though that was a tedious chore, and she ended up discarding half of the cookies in the end). Once, she Saran wrapped a door, but the poor human ran into it, slipped, and was knocked out cold. Marceline scampered before she saw the end result, but she’s pretty sure she saw their chest moving. Pretty sure.

Tonight, Marceline whooshes throughout the streets with glee. There’s one house down the street that she hasn’t covered yet, colored pastel pink. Just the thought of the white, laced curtain windows makes her want to shudder, and while she doesn’t have a plan, she knows she’ll have one as soon as she steps foot in the scene.

Marceline reaches for the door handle, blinking a moment afterwards. Some things about being a ghost are hard to get used to, like the fact you can just float through walls. She rolls her eyes at her own ridiculousness, zooming through the walls and finding herself in the kitchen.

Noises sound from an old TV, and Marceline reminds herself to work quietly. She turns in a circle around the room, which appears to be the kitchen, placing a hand to her chin and tapping her finger as she ponders. She could flick the lights on and off! No, that would be tacky. Maybe if she made stereotypical haunting ghost noises while she did it. Never mind, she’s going to—

“Um… What’re you doing in my house?” A voice calls, and Marceline turns, freezing immediately. She remembers she’s invisible, but a girl with bright pink hair stares at her, her eyes narrowed. She’s wearing a night shirt that looks like it’s something that would belong to Marceline herself, as it’s dark and somewhat freaky. 

“I’m talking to you, ya know.” She says, and Marceline slowly turns around to check if there’s nobody behind here. There isn’t anybody.

“Listen, you can’t just break into my house and ignore me, ya ding dong!” The pink-haired girl says, her voice frustrated now.

“Wait… You can see me?” Marceline asks, raising her eyebrows.

“No, duh! Who do you think I’ve been talking to for the past couple minutes, the wall?” She asks sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

Marceline’s face splits into a grin, showing her sharp teeth. She floats forward slightly, and the other’s eyes bug out comically. 

“Wait… What are you?” She inquires slowly, taking a careful step back.

“I’m a ghost… Can I touch you?” Marceline asks, and the girl’s nose scrunches up in slight disgust, but she holds out her hand. 

“You’re lucky you caught me on a good night. I’m always one for experimentation.” Pink-hair says, her voice o’ high and mighty. 

Marceline forces herself to get over the primness of her witness, reaching out to gently touch her hand. It’s just a brush of fingertips at first, and the girl shivers. 

“Your hands are cold.” She observes.

“That’s because I’m dead. Of course they’re cold.” Marceline reasons, and she blinks, her cheeks flushing the color of her hair before she recovers.

“What’s your name?” She asks, fully taking Marceline’s hand as if to prove a statement. Her hands are slightly calloused and warm, and Marceline feels momentary heat rush through her freezing body.

“Marceline. What’s yours?”

“Bonnibel, but everybody calls me Bubblegum.”

“What about Bonnie?”

“Bonnie?” She ponders this for a moment, before giving a shrug-nod.

Marceline shows her canines more when she grins, interlacing their fingers. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, I guess.”

“Same to you. I’ve never met a ghost before.” Bonnie replies, and for someone who’s just met an apparition, she’s not freaking out. Maybe it’s just because of her constant fascination with the paranormal, or her yearn to learn about the unknown. Either way, Marceline thinks she should keep her human around.

“Me either.” She agrees, and the corner of Bonnibel’s lips twitch, like she’s fighting down a smile.

“Will you come back?” Bonnie asks after a while, sounding almost nervous. Marceline suspects it’s for gathering information, but maybe she does genuinely enjoy her company.

“I was planning on it. It’s nice to know I’m heard.” Marceline responds with a casual shrug, and Bonnibel squeezes her hand once more, sending another flood of comfort through her bones. 

“I’ll see you.” Bonnibel says, dropping their hand. The way she says it, it sounds like a promise, like she wants Marceline to uphold her part of the bargain. 

“Hopefully.” Marceline murmurs, saluting her once before disappearing, drifting through her walls and back into the night with a celebratory pump of her fist into the air.


End file.
